


A Chance

by MellytheHun



Series: Tumblr Sterek Prompts [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Prompt Fic, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-06 13:44:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11037381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MellytheHun/pseuds/MellytheHun
Summary: Prompt: "come over here and make me."





	A Chance

Stiles’ jaw sets stubbornly, “I should be out there, helping fight - not stuck inside like -"

“You _stay_ inside,” Derek growls, pointing at Stiles, “All you’ve learned from Deaton so far is healing. You’re most useful at the home base. Stop arguing with me.”

Stiles scowls, face turning pink as Derek turns his back to walk towards the loft door.

“ _Hey_! _Whoa_ \- no! I can heal at the scene too! I shouldn’t have to -"

“This isn’t up for debate, Stiles,” Derek interrupts, not deigning to turn around.

“Seeing as you aren’t my fuckin’ boss, I would say it’s _definitely_ up for debate. That’s besides the fact that your plan fuckin’ sucks, as usual.”

"Shut _up_ , Stiles,” Derek warns drily, clearly uninterested in arguing.

"I don't see any reason I should."

"I can come up with at least ten and those are the ones I can do from here."

“Fuckin' prove it."

"Stop inciting me, Stiles."

"Come here and _make_ me,” Stiles snipes.

Derek pauses before the loft door, shoulders looking somehow broader and stronger than before, hands flexing into fists. Stiles’ heartbeat is loud, even to him. He's good at pushing Derek's buttons and he enjoys it, but Derek _can_ be scary when he wants to be.

Derek turns around slowly, eyes dark and focused. Stiles feels his heart making a valiant climb up his throat as Derek marches over to him. Hearts probably can't be regurgitated, right? Probably not. No. Right? Probably not. He's pretty sure not.

In the blink of an eye, Stiles is backed up against the wall, lips pressed shut against Derek’s. He makes some small noise of surprise and his heart is so loud, he’s legitimately thinking that someone outside the building could hear it.

Derek’s hands move up Stiles’ neck, cupping his face and tilting Stiles’ head to give himself better access. His tongue is hot and his stubble is a satisfying burn and Stiles gets a rush of tingling from his scalp down to his toes.

Derek’s thigh moves in between Stiles’ legs, pressing experimentally and Stiles groans loudly, heart skipping a beat, fingers fumbling over the smooth skin of Derek’s upper arms, trying to drag him closer and encourage that because **_yes_**.

He gives a short thrust, testing the friction and groaning wantonly at it when Derek pulls away.

Stiles openly stares at Derek’s mouth; his lips are full, a little swollen and shiny. His lips are just parted; he’s catching his breath. Stiles doesn’t hear his own breathing over his heartbeat. Maybe he’s stopped breathing. Maybe he’s dead. He might be dead. He's actually probably dead. Probably. Because unknowingly being dead would honestly make a lot more sense than whatever just happened.

Derek’s broad hand comes down over his chest, holding Stiles' heart under his palm.

“Stay here,” Derek pleads quietly, “If I’m not back within the hour, come for us. But give me a chance to protect you.”

Stiles hesitates, but the earnestness in Derek’s voice dislodges something heavy in his chest. He doesn't want to stay put, he wants to argue his point further, but now doesn't seem like the right time. Right now, it seems like a time to hear Derek out, whether he particularly likes it or not. He doesn't generally think he needs 'protecting,' like some fair maiden, but Derek doesn't seem to mean anything by it other than a genuine desire to do his best. For Stiles. So, Stiles nods and mutters, “okay.”

Derek leans in again, kissing him gently and before he turns and runs out the door, he whispers against Stiles’ lips, "trust me.”

And Stiles does.


End file.
